


We've Seen the Landfill Rainbow

by embroiderama



Series: Truth 'Verse [25]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Family, M/M, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-19
Updated: 2010-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-06 11:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanksgiving in Seattle. Jensen and Jeff connect with present and absent members of their families and with fears from long ago that never quite go away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We've Seen the Landfill Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set after all the preceding stories in the [Truth 'Verse](http://embroiderama.livejournal.com/55732.html). It occurs during Late August and November 2007.

Jeff stretched out on the sofa in his living room and closed his eyes, feeling the aches in his body settle and mellow. A few weeks out from the car accident, and he was back shooting _Watchmen_, and even the light stuff they had him working on made him pay later with pain in his ribs. There just wasn't time to lay around for a month until everything was healed--there was never time these days--and it was hard to believe that just over two years ago there'd been nothing but time.

By the summer of 2005, Jeff had more or less resigned himself to the reality that acting as a career choice just wasn't working out. His agent still hadn't forgiven him for letting his temper and his big mouth get the better of him back when he'd lost _Burning Zone_, and the few jobs he was pulling each year weren't hardly worth all the time spent on auditions. Most months he brought home more from his side jobs, painting and carpentry and whatever else he could figure out, than from acting. And he didn't mind that work, so he could see himself going into the future--being a 50, 60-year-old version of himself and still knocking around enough to keep the bills paid.

Then the dramatic little pilot for Warner Brothers turned into a real show that asked him back, and the role on _Grey's Anatomy_ that's he'd figured for Random Patient #7 turned into something crazy that he never would have imagined. Two years since then, full of movies and photo shoots and talk show appearances and more movie offers. And then, for the last year, Jensen.

Jensen. A year ago, he'd made a phone call, made an offer that he'd been about 75% sure would send Jensen running, but he hadn't--at least not right away. He ran later--ran and hid--but eventually learned what almost everybody does, that there's nowhere to hide from yourself. It had hurt, hurt both of them, but in the end that pain had led to days like the one that had him stretched out on his couch, listening to Jensen fiddle around in the kitchen. They'd watch a game and Tivo the Teen Choice Awards so they could make fun of Jared later.

They'd go to bed early and fuck and sleep, and they'd get up in the morning to go their separate ways again.

The guy Jeff had thought he'd be, the carpenter and painter who used to mess around at being an actor, might have been happy--and might have gotten a whole hell of a lot more sleep in the past couple of years--but he never would have fallen in love with Jensen Ackles. And maybe Jensen would have hidden from himself longer, long enough for part of himself to go blind in the darkness. That they could be together was a miracle, and Jeff hoped that he wouldn't ever stop being grateful.

~~~

LAX to Sea-Tac, the bustling nightmares of the airports, an hour sitting on the 405 north to Kirkland. Jensen had traveled the day before Thanksgiving so many times that the sheer awfulness of it didn't really faze him anymore.

But this was a different trip, north into the late-fall chill that felt like heading back to Vancouver in the middle of hiatus rather than east to Texas, to home. For ten years, he'd flown home every Thanksgiving, every Christmas, a couple weeks each summer, and now he wasn't sure how he was going to manage to go there again. How he was going to look his father in the face again.

His mother wasn't happy about the situation--nobody was happy about it--but five months later with no word from his father, Jensen was still too raw to deal with it. And he loved his mother and understood her desire for a peaceful home over the holiday, but he'd clearly heard the singular "you" in her plea for him to come visit.

Jeff's mother might not be too sure of their relationship, but she had invited them both. As Jeff steered off the interstate and into the suburban sprawl, Jensen knew he'd be homesick for some things--his mom's sweet potato casserole, video-game battles with his brother while his nephew laughed at them acting so stupid, hearing about his sister's friends and classes in person rather than over the phone--but the only way Jensen knew how to find peace in the short term was to not be there.

The most unsettling thing was that Jensen still knew next to nothing about Jeff's family. He'd tried to bring up the subject, but Jeff persisted in being vague. Jensen knew that Jeff thought the world of his mother, that he was an only child, that he'd lived in a "regular" neighborhood. Anything more was a mystery.

Jensen hadn't wanted to push Jeff while he was still recovering from his accident. After that, work picked up speed for the both of them to the point that they'd barely been able to keep each other informed on their day-to-day lives, much less delve into the past.

"So," Jensen ventured into the quiet of the car. "Are you sure we shouldn't just get a hotel room?"

Jeff shook his head, the corner of his mouth twisting up into a grin. "No, my mom would have a fit if we tried to stay somewhere else when she has plenty of space."

"Will it just be your mom there?"

"Yeah, my Aunt Marie and Uncle Jack will come over tomorrow, but this evening I'm sure it'll be just us. It'll be a lot nicer than last year." Jeff glanced over at Jensen with a small smile.

"Last year?"

"My mom and my ex-stepfather were getting ready to split up, and the whole holiday was tense with her on one end of the house and him on the other." Jeff shook his head. "And it ain't that big a house."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"It's okay, how could you? Anyway, Pete and Mom are still friends. It just wasn't going to work for them to live together once they both retired."

"That's too bad."

"Yeah, he's a decent guy. I just want my mom to be happy."

_What's the deal with your father_, Jensen wanted to ask. But Jeff had been so patient with his family drama, and Jensen was determined to wait and watch and listen, to learn as much as he could about Jeff in their few days here.

Jeff turned off the main road into a subdivision and then made a few turns before pulling into his mom's driveway. The house looked new--one story with a nice yard and well-trimmed bushes out front.

Jensen heard the trunk pop open and walked around to start pulling out luggage. He had his own bag on his shoulder when he heard Jeff call out, "Mom! Hey!" Looking over the hood of the car, he could see Jeff holding his mother tight, so he grabbed both bags and closed the trunk before walking over to stand next to Jeff.

Mother and son pulled apart, and Jensen could see that Sandy Thomas was a small, sturdy woman with dimples just like Jeff's and bright friendly eyes that turned to take him in.

"Jensen! It's so good to meet you in person." She stepped in close, and Jensen hugged her, hoping he didn't look as stiff and uncomfortable as he felt.

"Good to meet you, too, Sandy."

She pulled away and smiled up at them both. "Okay, let's get you both inside."

~~~

Jeff put his hand on Jensen's back and together they walked inside. Even though it wasn't the house where he grew up, even though he had never stayed there for more than a week or two at a time, somehow his mom's house was always home in some essential way. Family pictures on the walls, the little shelves he'd made in eighth grade wood shop, a few of the same decorations he'd grown up around mixed in with new things--even if the walls changed, those things told him he was home. He wished that Jensen could relax and breathe in the air of this place and feel at home the way he did. Jensen had been keyed up since they landed, edgy like he was waiting for the axe to fall.

"Why don't you two put your bags away and get settled? I thought we'd go out to dinner tonight, but I have some snacks if you're hungry."

Jeff caught Jensen's eye and smiled. Sometimes it seemed like his mother was just waiting for the opportunity to put some cheese and crackers on a plate.

"Come on, Mom'll start grabbing the bags herself if we don't take them." He took his own bag from Jensen and led the way back past the kitchen to the guest room.

Jensen slung his bag onto the queen-size bed and then looked at Jeff, a wrinkle forming in the center of his forehead. "So…this is where I'm going to sleep?"

"Yeah. Coincidentally, it's also where I'm going to be sleeping."

Jensen's eyes went wide, and he looked around like he was expecting somebody to jump into the room with a camera in hand. "But…in your mom's house? I mean, I can sleep on the couch if that would be better."

"It wouldn't be better. There's a fold-out couch in the room next to Mom's bedroom on the other side of the house. She gave us this room so we'd have our privacy."

"O-okay." Jensen nodded, still looking like he'd be more comfortable if only his mom would treat them both like crap.

Jeff had to wonder, times when Jensen had that look on his face, when the day would come that Jensen decided it was all too much. When he decided that he might love Jeff but he loved his privacy, his sanity, the comforting acceptance of society more. When he figured out what he wanted for his future and realized that Jeff wasn't enough. It could happen any time. Jeff was determined to make the most of however much time they had together.

Back out in the living room, Jeff and Jensen sat on the sofa--not quite touching, but close enough that their knees and elbows would bump as they moved. His mother asked Jensen polite questions about his family, his work, and Jensen loosened up. He started talking about how much he'd wanted to act since falling in love with it in high school. Jeff had never realized his mom was an amateur Barbara Walters, but Jensen told her more that Jeff had ever heard or read before.

Jeff reached his hand across the couch cushions and let his fingers rest on top of Jensen's. Jensen didn't pull away.

~~~

Stuffed from a dinner of seafood, Jensen stretched out on the bed and looked around the room. A cluster of framed pictures on the dresser drew his attention, so he sat up and swung around to where he could reach them. One was clearly Sandy as a young woman, smiling in what must have been her high school graduation picture. Two were of older people, probably Jeff's grandparents. One was a school picture of Jeff, looking around eight years old with a sweet smile on his face and eyes that looked like he was getting ready to be up to no good.

The last picture was a snapshot blown up to 5x7--a man in his thirties dressed in bell bottoms and a bright, broad-collared shirt. He looked tall, skinny, with a thin, slanting mouth half-hidden by a heavy moustache--but his eyes were all Jeff's, sleepy and deep. And his hair was thick and dark like Jeff's, but longer, wild.

Jensen had missed Jeff's entrance into the room, but when he felt Jeff settle onto the bed next to him he turned to look, seeing again the reflection of the man in the photo. "Your dad?"

"Yeah, that's my father." Jeff looked troubled, nervous even, and Jensen felt like a dick, but he really wanted to know.

"Is he--you never talk about him."

"He died almost twenty years ago now. But he--he wasn't a big part of my life for a long time before that."

"Shit." Jensen glanced behind him at the closed bedroom door and then scooted over to sit closer to Jeff, wrapping an arm around Jeff's waist. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, he just got himself messed up in a lot of bad stuff. It's Mom who had to deal with it, keep us afloat, you know."

"What happened?"

Jeff sighed and leaned into Jensen's side. "Well, they got married young, had me young, and they were really happy, I think. I remember being little, before I started school or anything, and they were so silly together. Then it's like my dad realized the seventies were happening out there and he was stuck with a wife and kid."

"What happened?" Jensen spoke quietly, nearly whispering for fear of breaking whatever spell was letting Jeff talk about his past.

"Mom told me later on, he stared going to dance clubs in Seattle, messing around with whatever kind of shit he could get his hands on. I remember he didn't come home for a few days at a time, then he wouldn't come home for months." Jeff took the picture from the dresser and stared at it for a minute. "He tried a few times--came home, cleaned up, stayed with us--but it never lasted."

"What did your mom do?"

"She got a job as a bookkeeper. The little company she started with ended up turning into a big tech company, so we were lucky. Eventually, when I was about 14, she told him to just stay away and not come back."

"Jesus, that must have been hard." As much as Jensen had a hard time with his family, he couldn't imagine his father not being there, his family falling apart.

"I was pissed off at her for a while, but then I figured out it was better not having to hope that he would come back for good, that he would--" Jeff put the picture down clumsily and looked away, blinking. "--love us enough," he whispered.

"Shit." Jensen squeezed Jeff closer and rubbed a hand over his side. "I'm sorry."

Jeff shook his head, visibly pulling himself together. "It was a long fucking time ago. He stayed away for five years, and then he looked me up when I was in college, wanted to talk. I was busy, then I got hurt and I just couldn't deal with his bullshit on top of it."

"That makes sense."

"So, I didn't see him again. A few years later--they didn't know exactly what happened. He took too much shit, or someone gave him some bad shit or his heart was ready to go and the drugs just pushed him over the edge. Either way, he died in a motel room in Portland; the manager found him when they went to kick him out. I didn't go to the funeral."

Jensen moved his hand to slip under the hem of Jeff's shirt so he could press skin against skin. "I don't blame you."

"Yeah, well, some days that makes one of us."

"He screwed up a good thing." Jensen dropped his head to lean on Jeff's shoulder. "That's on him."

The weight of Jeff's head came to rest against Jensen's and they sat together breathing in the silence until Jeff pushed himself up and went off to wash up before bed.

~~~

Jeff woke early in the morning to the sound of his mother in the kitchen. She always had to get up at the crack of dawn to put the turkey in the oven, even when there would only be a few people at dinner and they clearly didn't need a 25 pound bird.

Jeff knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, so he got out of bed carefully to avoid waking Jensen and pulled on a t-shirt and sweats before slipping out to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mom." He saw coffee brewing on the counter and went to grab a cup even though it wasn't done.

"Good morning. Happy Thanksgiving!" She took a mug out of the cabinet and held it out for Jeff to fill while he had the pot in hand. "Did you and Jensen sleep okay?"

"Yeah." Jeff leaned back against the edge of the counter and sipped at his mug. "I told him about Dad."

Jeff thought she might question him about why he hadn't before, but she just nodded and smiled at him warmly. "Good."

~~~

As the morning wore on into afternoon, the house filled up with the aroma of baking turkey. Jeff's mom and her sister spent much of their time in the kitchen, cooking or talking or both, and he and Jeff and Jeff's uncle sat in front of the game on TV. Other than the number of people in the house, it was all so much like Thanksgiving at his parents' house, but still Jensen felt further and further away from Texas as the day went on.

"I wonder if my sister brought her boyfriend." Jensen felt like an idiot as soon as he said the words, but Jeff didn't look surprised.

"Why don't you call them? I'm sure your mom would be happy if you called."

"Yeah." Jensen had daydreamed so much that he'd lost track of how the game was going anyway. "I'm gonna go back to the bedroom and call."

"Okay." Jeff's hand brushed a swath of warmth onto Jensen's leg.

Part of Jensen just wanted to stay there within reach of Jeff and pretend that it wasn't bizarre for him to be 1500 miles away from Richardson on Thanksgiving Day. But he knew that he needed to reach out and that it wasn't his mom's--or Josh or Mackenzie's--fault that things were so screwed up. He walked through the kitchen, smiling at the ladies, and then closed himself up in the bedroom and pulled out his cell. And prayed that his father didn't answer the phone.

"Hello," Mackenzie answered, and Jensen smiled at the sound of his sister's voice.

"Has Uncle Bernie started talking about his bowels yet?"

"Ugh, oh my God, he trapped me in the hall and talked about it for like ten minutes!" Kenzie laughed, and Jensen closed his eyes, remembering that being with his family wasn't all about the discomfort of his dad and a few other family members who made him feel like shit.

"Sorry I wasn't there to rescue you, sis."

"You should be. But Happy Thanksgiving! We miss you, you know?"

"I miss you, too."

"Oh, hey, Mom's giving me the eye. She wants to talk to you."

"Okay, I--" Jensen tried to say good-bye to his sister, but his mother took over the phone before he could get it out.

"Happy Thanksgiving, baby."

"Hi Mom, happy Thanksgiving."

"It's so strange not to have you here."

"I'm sorry, mom. Maybe--maybe next year it'll be better?"

"Oh, I hope so. Are you okay up there? They taking care of you?"

"I can take care of myself." Jensen rolled his eyes at his mother, wanting her 29 year old son to be taken care of. "But yeah, Jeff's mom is a nice lady. She's cooking but I'm sure her sweet potatoes won't be anywhere near as good as yours."

"I'll put some in the freezer for you. Maybe they'd ship okay."

"Mom, that's crazy. Don't bother."

"It wouldn't be a bother. But, oh, your brother is standing next to me looking impatient, so I better pass the phone to him. You have a good day, okay? I love you."

"I will. Love you, Mom." Jensen listened to the rattle as his mom passed the phone over and then his brother's sigh on the other end of the line. "Hey, Josh."

"Hey bro. Dallas is winning and you're missing it."

"I think the cops might show up if we changed the station from the Seahawks game here."

"Damn heathen Northerners." Josh laughed.

"I've tried to convert them but they're stubborn as all get-out."

"Yeah, well, just so you know--I'm going to eat your share of the pies."

"Wouldn't expect anything less. Just make sure you set aside some money for new pants."

"Aw, shut up. Hey, Cody wants to talk to Uncle Jensen."

The last time Jensen had seen his nephew, he'd been shocked to realize that he wasn't a baby anymore. Now he was a few months into pre-school, and Jensen didn't understand how that had happened. "Okay. Hey, tell Lisa I said hi."

"I will. Look, if you don't come at Christmas I'm going to take all your presents."

Jensen didn't know how the mess between him and his father would be any better in a month. "I--I'll try."

"Okay. Here's my boy."

Jensen could hear the muffled sound of Josh talking to his son, and then Cody came on the line. "Uncle Jensen!"

"Hey little dude!"

"Why aren't you here? We miss you!"

"Sorry, buddy. I just couldn't get there this year."

"Are you far away?"

As much as Kirkland was a suburb much like Richardson, somehow it still felt like it was on the other side of the earth. "Pretty far," Jensen admitted. "Why don't you tell me about school?"

Cody rattled off stories about his teacher and the trip they took to the fire station and the kids in his class, and in the middle of it Jensen heard the distinct click of another phone picking up on the line. The only place he knew there was a regular non-cordless phone in the house was his father's office on the second floor.

Cody was in the middle of telling Jensen about some boy who tried to steal his crayons when he heard Lisa's voice in the background. "Sorry, Uncle Jensen, Momma says I gotta go wash my hands."

"Okay, bud. You have a good Thanksgiving."

"Bye!"

Cody hung up he phone, but Jensen stayed on the line. It didn't turn into a dial tone, and Jensen could hear quiet breathing. "Dad?" He ventured, feeling his throat tighten up around the word.

"Jensen," his father said, his voice low and strained. "I'm sorry."

Then the dial tone sounded and Jensen hung up. He slumped back on the bed and wondered if it was possible that he had imagined the last thirty seconds.

~~~

Dinner was delicious. Though he still missed his mom's cooking, Jensen had to admit that Sandy's stuffing was even better than what he was used to, and Jeff's aunt's aunt made a chocolate pie that made Jensen momentarily forget about all the hours he was going to have to put in at the gym when they got back to LA.

With good food mellow in his stomach and the soft upholstery of the sofa underneath him, Jensen fell asleep.

~~~

Jeff looked over to the other side of the couch and saw that Jensen had fallen asleep. When his face went soft and slack with sleep, Jensen looked so young, too young for anyone who'd want to be with a forty-one-year-old. A few weeks into hiatus, his hair was already growing out from Dean Winchester's brush cut. Jeff reached out to smooth his hand over Jensen's head, and some longer pieces of hair in the front laid down on his forehead like the beginning of bangs.

Jeff felt eyes on him and turned to see his mother watching them with a small smile on her face. She didn't speak, but she tilted her head back in the direction of the kitchen, and Jeff followed her there.

"It's a long time since I saw you like this with anyone."

Jeff ducked his head, tracing the pattern of the tile floor with his eyes. "It's a long time since I let myself get in this deep."

"Deep in trouble or deep in love?" The squeeze of his mother's hand on his arm made Jeff look up.

"Both, maybe. I think they go hand in hand."

"You two seem good together. Where's the trouble?"

"It's good now, but I'm scared--" Jeff shook his head, as if saying the words could make it happen.

"I know what you're scared of. You might be all grown up, but the look in your eyes is the same as when you were hoping your dad would stay home for good."

Jeff sniffed in hard to clear his suddenly clogged nose.

"Just let yourself be happy. That's all I want for you."

"But if he leaves--I don't want to think about it, but sometimes I can't stop myself."

"Jeff."

Jeff startled and turned around to see Jensen leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, his body lax with sleep, but his eyes wide awake. He swallowed visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and then walked closer.

"I know you don't really have any reason to trust me. I've screwed this up a couple of times already, but I'm determined not to do it again. I can be a stubborn asshole when I need to be."

Jeff sighed. He hadn't meant for Jensen overhear his stupid fears. "It's okay."

"I want to tell you what I told your mom a few months ago."

"Mom?" Jeff turned to look at her and saw her smiling approval at Jensen.

"The only way I'm leaving is if you make me leave. Even then, I--" Jensen scratched at the back of his head and looked abashed. "Even if you ask me to leave, you might need to call the police or something because I've got no intention of going anywhere."

Jeff felt tears prickling in his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose hard to hold them back. Jensen's arms came around him then and Jeff hugged him back, relaxing into the embrace. He knew it would take him a long time to learn how to believe that Jensen wasn't going anywhere, but he was starting to believe that he would be given that time to learn.

~~~

Friday morning, Sandy got up early to go hit the sales with her sister, leaving Jensen and Jeff to enjoy having the house to themselves. Lounging in bed with one leg thrown over Jensen's, Jeff ran his hand through Jensen's hair again. Jensen closed his eyes, his face relaxed as Jeff stroked his forehead.

"It's really kind of freakish how fast your hair grows. Were you exposed to radiation as a kid or what?"

"It's a special talent." Jensen smirked. "I'm thinking of putting it on my resume."

"Maybe you should take the summer off and let it grow."

"Oh, I see. You want to lock me in your attic and turn me into Rapunzel." Jensen laughed.

"The way you like to catch z's when you're on hiatus, maybe I should make you Sleeping Beauty instead." Jensen rolled his eyes, but Jeff ran a finger over Jensen's lips. "At least then I could wake you with a kiss."

"You did wake me up, you know?" Jensen's eyes were serious, even as his mouth softened into a smile. "You just did it with a blow job instead of a kiss."

"You feeling sleepy? I could wake you up right now."

Jensen's hand slipped down to reach between their bodies, and his hand on Jeff's cock was a wake-up call of its own. His fingers trailed up and down Jeff's length in light, languid strokes until Jeff was hard, his hips pressing into Jensen's thigh like they had plans of their own.

"I want you to fuck me," Jensen breathed into Jeff's shoulder. He spread his legs wider and as Jeff rolled over on top of him, Jensen shifted his hips to get the angle right.

Jeff dipped his head down to taste the skin over Jensen's throat, warm and a little salty from sleep. Jensen's hum of contentment buzzed on the tip of Jeff's tongue, and Jeff slid his hands down to cup Jensen's ass when he remembered what he was lacking. "Aw, hell, I need to go get the lube out of my bag."

Jensen wrapped a hand around Jeff's bicep. "You're not going anywhere." He bent his free arm back to fish around under his pillow and pulled out a small bottle.

Jeff took it out of his hand and popped the top. "I really love the way your mind works."

Jeff prepared Jensen, enjoying the way Jensen squirmed on the bed. He closed his eyes and listened to Jensen's panting breaths, the way he moaned almost silently in the back of his throat. When he slid inside, Jensen's hips rose up to meet his and it didn't seem possible to have any doubts when they were in that place together--naked, sweat pooling in their navels and the backs of their knees, the honesty of their bodies in motion.

When Jeff felt himself on the brink of coming, he opened his eyes to see Jensen with his head flung back over the pillow, long neck stretched to expose the flushed skin of his throat, and knew he was close too. He wrapped his hand around Jensen's cock and brought him off, brought him along. They came together, breathing the gasps from each other's mouths before relaxing back onto the bed with their lax limbs tangled.

~~~

As they drove back to the airport on Saturday, Jensen looked out the window and wished they'd had more time here, time to see Jeff's old neighborhood, the places in Seattle where he used to hang out. _You're welcome any time,_ Sandy had said as she hugged Jensen goodbye on her front porch.

Jensen had never wanted to spend much time with his girlfriends' parents. He couldn't stand to see the light in their mothers' eyes, seeing a future with weddings and grandchildren and wanting to run away from that as fast as he could. He didn't see that in Sandy's face, didn't see anything other than her wanting him to make Jeff happy. But even if what Sandy wanted for them involved forever and "I do" and promises made before God, Jensen didn't feel much like running.


End file.
